


The Newest Item

by OpalliteGlass



Series: League Skin Series [12]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bondage, Forced Orgasm, Gags, M/M, Multi, Mummification, Silk - Freeform, cocoons, in-game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-18 03:06:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalliteGlass/pseuds/OpalliteGlass
Summary: Sylas is the first to buy an interesting new item on Summoner's Rift, and he's quick to use it against the enemy.





	The Newest Item

The summoner’s platform was quickly becoming a familiar setting for Sylas. Although he joined the League recently, he found himself being brought to the marble-and-crystal obelisk semi-frequently over the last few months.

It seemed his unique strength of copying the abilities of other champions was deemed extremely useful, and he was grateful for the work. However, he had been summoned to what appeared to be a skirmishing match, simply a warmup for future clashes to come. He shrugged his hulking shoulders, feeling the weight of the chains that dragged behind him.

Practice makes perfect, and it’s not like he had much to do anyway. If he wasn’t participating in a match, he was usually down at the pub or planning his next big revolt. He ran a hand through his long, black locks.

He had accrued quite a large amount of gold through the skirmishing, and was preparing to purchase his first item. Perhaps he’s buy something explosive, like the Hextech Protobelt? Those were always in fashion. Or maybe he’d invest in the Spellbinder, an item that, similar to his own magic, stored the energy of nearby mages inside itself.

As he browsed the shopkeeper’s wares, scanning up and down the tall shelves, something new caught his eyes. A strange contraption, obviously meant to be held as a cross-bow style weapon. The back of the weapon was bulbous and black, striped with white and shimmering with an pearlescent sheen. The business end was tipped with sharp, pointed feeler-type protrusions, giving the whole thing a spider-like appearance.

“Newest addition.” The Piltover shopkeeper said, catching Sylas’ interested eye. “Imported right from the Ionia Highlands.” The young man was extremely proud of his wares, and his stretched the straps of his overalls out in self-satisfaction.

“What is it?” Sylas asked, picking the weapon up. The shopkeeper ducked down quickly, his large pageboy hat, a staple of Piltover male fashion, tilting comically to the side.

“Don’t point that at me!” He practically shrieked. “The Orb-Spinner is known to be extremely sensitive, it goes off at a moment’s notice.”

“Hm.” Sylas paid no mind to the warning, rotating the weapon and examining the bottom of the device. “What does it do?”

The shopkeeper beamed from his place beneath the desk. “It’s positively the best in non-lethal restraint! Although I recommend careful application, as the silk emitted from the end can be a bit acidic towards armor and other articles of clothing.”

“You don’t say...” Sylas murmured. “I’ll take it.”

The shopkeeper cocked his head. “Are you sure about that?” He asked, popping up from his hiding spot. “It is a support item, and your buying habits indicate a specific leaning towards magic strength-”

“I said,” Sylas interrupted, pointing the weapon at the shopkeeper and squeezing the trigger. “I’ll take it.”

* * *

“Let’s just put this right there.” Rakan said to himself, planting a vision ward in an outcrop of brush. “Yeah… that seems like a good place.” He checked around himself for any enemies, knowing he was a bit too far in enemy territory. He had left his laning partner, the prodigal explorer Ezreal, in their lane to fend for himself for a brief moment while he kept a lookout.

As he did a final check on the positioning of the ward, he noticed a small puddle of water near the brush.

He smirked, eager to examine his reflection in the smooth surface. He peered over it, seeing his Lhotlan features reflected. He smoothed his hair back and flicked his right ear to perk it up a bit. His golden-red feathers were shimmering with magic, and his harem-style pants were covered in even more feathers and accessories.

He looked fine, if he did say so himself.

“Rakan...” He said quietly. “You are looking good.”

But as he was finishing his hair, he heard a loud snort behind him.

“Seriously?” Came the think accented voice of an enemy. “Talking to yourself? In a puddle of water?”

Rakan whirled around to see Sylas, the enemy mid-laner, standing a short distance from him.

“Isn’t that a little cliché?”

Rakan frowned. “Fuck off, Sylas.” He bent his posture, ready to dive the man at a moment’s notice. “Get back to your lane, and their won’t be any trouble.”

“You’re in my jungle, little bird.” Sylas taunted. “And I’ve just purchased by first item.”

“So what?” Rakan jeered. “Got your first item powerspike?” His voice took on a mocking tone. “You gonna one-shot me, now?”

Sylas’ grin widened. “I’ve opted for a more utlity-style build.” He pulled the Orb-Spinner out from behind his back.

Rakan’s posture straightened up in confusion. He rubbed the back of his head in confusion.

“Uh...” He cocked his head. “What is that? Is that… a Redemption?”

“Does this _look_ like a Redemption?” Sylas asked, aiming point-blank at Rakan and squeezing the trigger. Liquid silk spewed from the end of the weapon, pouring out over his shoulders, enveloping and twisting around his body.

“What the!?” He shouted, running his claws through the liquid, although that only succeeded in spreading it onto his arms and up his shoulders. It rolled up his body, his clothing he had spent so much time arranging and choosing dissolving away into nothing.

“Hey!” He yelled. “My clothing! Do you know how much those cos- ahh!”

He fell onto the ground, shifting his shoulders and squirming as the liquid settled on his shoulders, completely enshrouding him from shoulders to toes in the material. Then, it began to harden from exposure to the air, forming sleek, soft silk around his entire body.

He was cocooned extremely tightly, the pressure around his chest making it hard to inhale.

“What the fuck...” He groaned, twisting and wriggling, earning nothing but a distinct tightening sensation around his body. “What is this stuff!?” He asked, looking up at Sylas in anger.

“The newest item.” Sylas replied, crouching down with a smug look on his face. “Like I said, more of a utility style item.”

“Let me go!” Rakan shouted. “You can’t just take me out of the game- mmr!”

Sylas had shoved the business end of the weapon into Rakan’s mouth, puffing the Vastaya’s cheeks from the intrusion.

“You should learn to shut your mouth, little bird.”

Rakan knew what was about to happen, and shook his head violently in protest, but couldn’t dislodge the gun from his mouth.

“Mroo! Mron mroo et!”

“Here, let me shut it for you.”

Another quick squeeze of the trigger, and silk issued from the gun, filling his mouth with the liquid and flowing around his head, covering his hair, ears, and eyes. It settled around his head as Sylas pulled the gun away with a loud popping sound, leaving only Rakan’s nose uncovered.

“Mmmmrph!!” Rakan growled from beneath the silk, squirming on the ground.

“Now that I’ve got you tucked away, let’s make sure you behave.” Sylas purred, dragging one of the sharp tendrils on the end of the weapon down the part of the cocoon where Rakan’s crotch would be, a magical seam appearing.

He pulled the Vastaya’s cock out from the silk, stroking it to induce an erection.

“Mroo!!” Rakan complained. “Mrre mm mro!”

Once he had a full erection, another quick application of silk at the base ensured he would not get soft anytime soon.

“Now, let’s get you out of the way.”

* * *

“Shit...” Ezreal murmured, looking around him at the vast expanse of river and forest. Somehow he had gotten separated from his support, the loud-mouth Vastaya named Rakan.

“Rakan!” He called, peering over a short stone wall. “You there?” All he saw was more jungle. How was he always getting lost? It’s not like the jungle was _that_ big… he must’ve not been paying attention.

“I am _not_ looking for you again!” Ezreal shouted. Rakan had an annoying habit of leaving him at the worst times. The enemy could be anywhere on the map, and without a support, Ezreal was a sitting duck.

“Rakan, you asshole!” He continued his search despite his insistence otherwise.

The river babbled happily underneath his shoes, and he could hear the roar of an Infernal Drake nearby. Maybe he was near the drake? He could be battling it with the rest of his team.

But just as he was about to set off in that direction, a pair of extremely strong arms grabbed him, one around his waist, pinning his arms to his side, and one around his neck.

They pulled him close to his captor, two large chains swinging heavily by his legs.

“Gotcha.” Came a deep voice.

“Ack!” Ezreal chocked out. He knew who the voice belonged to. It was difficult to mistake Sylas’ unique baritone. “Let me go!”

“Not a chance.” Sylas increased the pressure, making the smaller boy croak in protest. “I’ve already got your loud-mouthed partner, figured I’d go for the complete set.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to...” In a blink of light, Ezreal disappeared from Sylas’ grasp and re-appeared a short distance away, striking a triumphant pose, eyes closed.

“Arcane Shift away!”

The sound of a weapon cocking made him open his eyes.

“Predictable.” Sylas chuckled, the Orb-Spinner pointed right and Ezreal’s chest. “Any last words?”

“Um… three.” Ezreal held the number up with his fingers. “What is that?”

“Your prison.”

With a pull of the trigger, the same liquid silk that had cocooned his partner spewed all over Ezreal, dissolving away his clothing and wrapping around his lithe body. Sylas made sure to apply a liberal coating, since Ezreal was known to be extremely slippery.

“What the hell is this!?” The boy exclaimed, trying to pull his hands away from his sides, only to have them snap back with a wet noise as the silk confined him, hardening into a smooth, seamless, slippery cocoon.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sylas retorted, placing a large boot on Ezreal’s silk-bound chest and pushing, knocking the encased boy to the floor.

“Is it a new item?” Ezreal asked, his innate curiosity overtaking his concern at being captured. “Some sort of Ionian artifact?” He tried to crane his head from his place on the ground, the cocoon not allowing him much motion.

“Can I see it?” He asked.

“Sure.” Sylas held the gun close to Ezreal’s face as he sprayed more silk all over the boy’s complaining mouth and angry eyes.

“Mmrph! Mmmra mmph mmra!”

“Close enough?” Sylas asked. “Want another look?”

Another layer made Ezreal’s whimpering even quieter.

“Nice and tight.” Sylas said, satisfied with the cocoon’s tightness, drawing an identical line down Ezreal’s crotch, just the same as he did with Rakan.

After the customary stroking, he applied the silk cockring to ensure permanent hardness, despite Ezreal’s pathetic mewling.

“Good lad.” Sylas patted the silk where Ezreal’s head would be. “Two down, three to go.”


End file.
